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AN 



ORATION, 



POEM AND ODE, 



DELITERED BEFORE THE MEMBERS 









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!♦ iS> *f i§' Hi' *f 88» m 



On the Seventh Day of July, 1848. 






* FROCUL E3TE PROFAM." 



PRINTED FOR THE MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY. 



• K.S 



V* V V. 






v 






u Voted, That the exercises of the evening be printed, and 
that a Corom^tee for that purpose be appointed." The follow- 
ing gentlemen were appointed, — 

Charles Dexter. 
F. TV. TV. Palfrey. 
Samuel A. Green. 

B. H. Hall, Clerk. 



MEMBERS 

of H. L. of I. O. of 0. F. 

John Noyes Mead, I. G. ; A. S. S. 

Francis William Winthrop Palfrey, S. I, A. S. S. 

Benjamin Homer Hall, D. C, A. S. S. 

William Francis Allen, S. S., A. S. S. 

Henry Williamson Haynes, I. S., A. S. S. 

Jason Martin Gorham, S. D., A. S. S. 

William Czar Bradley, E. T., A. S. S. 

Charles Franklin Dunbar, C. S., A. S. S. 

Edward Henry Hall, J. O., A. S. S. 

Arthur Herbert Poor, S. T., A. S. S. 

Samuel Abbot Green, C. I, A. S. S. 

Robert Ware, A. S. S. 

Edward Austin Flint, A. S. S. 

George Bradford, A. S. S. 

Charles Dexter, A. S. S. 

Robert Troup Paine, A. S. S. 

William Paisley Field, A. S. S. 

Lucius Henry Buckingham, A. S. S. 

Joseph Howard Gray, A. S. S. 

Frederic Winsor, A. S. S. 



ORATION 



BT W. F. ALLEN. S. 8. 



Most Ignoble Grand, and Brethren. I ask a favor of you, 
that you will take for granted all apologies which could possibly 
and are accustomed to be made by individuals in my situation. 
The limits allowed do not permit me to enlarge on this point ; 
I pass hastily over this necessary appendage to an Oration, 
and plunge at once into hitherto unfathomed depths. 

Upon being appointed to perform this honorable but ardu- 
ous duty, the first point toward which I turned my mind, was 
the choice of a subject. And this gave me, Brethren, greater 
trouble than you will be inclined to believe, judging from my 
selection. After six weeks of deep cogitation, fifteen sleepless 
nights, forty-seven moonlight walks, twice carefully exploring 
Pope's " Essay on Man," and turning over the leaves of seven 
Encyclopedias in search of a subject, I at length arrived at 
the conclusion that the most obvious subject was the best — 
that the nucleus of my words must be — u Secret Societies in 
general, and the Harvard Lodge of the Independent Order of' 
Odd Fellows in particular." 

After the manner of the most approved Orators, I divide my 

Oration into fifty-three distinct heads. - And from the first to 

the fifth inclusive, I will speak on the Nature and Essence of 

Secret Societies. Let me explain to you first, what Essence 

1* 



6 ORATION. 

means. Here I congratulate myself upon having such a book 
at hand to refer to, as " Abbott's Abercrombie's Intellectual 
Philosophy," from which I now proceed to read. " It is impor- 
tant that the pupil should entertain clear ideas of the distinction 
between the essence and the properties of bodies. Take, for 
example, to illustrate this, an orange. It has a peculiar color. 
This color is one of its properties. Imagine this to be taken 
away. It has taste, which is another property. Remove this also. 
It has solidity ; that is, it can be felt. Imagine, though it is diffi- 
cult to do so, this property to be removed, so that the hand 
would pass through it without meeting any resistance, as if it 
were a shadow, or an optical deception. Suppose that, in the 
same way, all other properties were removed, viz., form, smell, 
weight, &c. What would at last be left? Is there an un- 
known something, around which all these properties cluster ? 
To this something, the term essence is applied. Now all of 
whicn we have, or can have any real knowledge, is the prop- 
erties, both in the case of matter and mind." 

Now, Brethren, that we all know what Essence is, I say 
nothing further on this point, because I consider that as you 
have belonged to Secret Societies as long, you may be ex- 
pected to know as much about their essence as myself. But I 
profess no knowledge on this point, and therefore suppose that 
you are in the same situation. In this happy state of ignor- 
ance, thin, let us remain. 

6th to 10th. Under this head, it was my design to give a 
complete History of Secret Societies; one that should serve 
for reference, for study, and for general reading ; one that would 
live forever, and place the name of this Institution, as well as my 
own, somewhere in tie stars. But for three reasons I have 
relinquished this des : gr. llthly, because it was impossible, 
without superhuman exertions, to obtain the requisite materials ; 
12thly, because my limits refused so comprehensive a work; 
and ISthly, because I am neither a Niebuhr nor a Headley. I 
pass, then, directly to the 14th head. 



ORATION. 7 

From this to the 21st, I intend to devote all my powers to 
giving a brief, but comprehensive, and entirely satisfactory 
History of this particular Lodge, proving conclusively that it is 
as old as the Peloponnesian War, and probably coeval with 
the Creation. Gentlemen, I will meet you fairly and openly. 
I do not design to stun you with arguments, overwhelm you 
with quotations, and silence you with authorities. I refrain 
from making extracts from Praxilla, Cantacuzenus, Lesches, 
Confucius, Sanchoniathon, Flavius Vegetius Renatus, Cham- 
pollion, Ptochoprodromus, Rhemnius Fannius, Zoroaster, Dias- 
corides, Swedenborg, Lycophron, and innumerable other au- 
thorities, none of whom I have consulted. I spare you and 
myself such a recital, merely informing you that in the College 
Library you will find as much information on this subject as 
any one would be likely to. As a specimen, however, of what 
I could have done, I proceed to give you a short extract from 
Xenophon, commenting upon it in the most approved style, 
showing you how, if I chose, I could fill a large book as /well 
as Anthon. In the Cyropoedia, Book 5, Chap. III., Sect. 49, 
you will find these remarkable words. " 'Trw rcg eft vdop- %v?ia rig 
oxlocitcj." If this sentence is translated in the flat, unmean- 
ing manner of most ignoramuses, it reads simply, — " Let one 
go for water ; one cut wood." But feel it — feel it — and 
what a light breaks upon your mind ! you see clearly that it 
means, — "Let every one go to Harvard; let him join the 
Lodge.'' Tig has here evidently the rather uncommon signi- 
fication of every-one. " Tdwp we find upon inspection to be 
an English word, — |s Harvard ; " the d being originally an F 
and a p standing before it, which was dropped for the sake of 
euphony ; — the last syllable of course is of no account. Ht'Aa 
means generally wood, but as Lodges are commonly of wood, 
we may here give it that meaning by synecdoche. 2^a4rw 
is to divide, split, cleave — cleave, that is, adhere, join. Thu? 
we complete our proof. But a passage even more conclusive. 



8 ORATION. 

may be found in Virgil's iEneid, Book VI., Verse 258, which, 
by a wonderful coincidence, is the very motto of our Lodge,— 
" Procul este Profani." I have, then, I think, proved to a 
certainty that the H. L. of I. O. of O. F. existed at the time 
of the poetical Xenophon and the figurative Virgilius ; and as 
it has gone back so far, there is nothing to prevent its going 
still farther ; and consequently I do not see that we shall stop 
until the Creation ; beyond which, in the present unsatisfactory 
state of archaeological knowledge, it is impossible to penetrate. 
But this is mere theory. Our more immediate interest is 
with the revival of the Lodge, after so many centuries of ob- 
livion. Paulo majora canamus. The feelings of my heart will 
not here suffer me to refrain from well-deserved compliment 
to the deep research, the quick-sighted apprehension, the mas- 
terly mystery, and persevering energy of our most I. G. How 
he first discovered the charter of our Lodge, how he fathomed 
those sublime secrets -— the purification by water, the imposi- 
tion of hands, the left hand of fellowship, the chorus of awful 
sounds, and others which have since been woven into a beauti- 
ful form of admission, — how he came tc be the most favored of 
Freshmen, I cannot tell. This is one of those profound secrets 
that it is not permitted even to an Odd-Fellow to know. It is a 
self-evident fact that they were discovered. For a long time 
the discovery lurked in his heart, unknown to others, and scarce- 
ly confessed to himself. He was fully conscious of its im- 
mense importance ; but it seemed like a dream — a beautiful 
dream, which an attempt at practical application would dispel. 
At length, with fear and trembling, as he beautifully expressed 
it in a conversation with me on the subject, he ventured upon 
the experiment. The first whom he admitted, as I find upon 
inspection of the records, was he who was immediately elected 
to the second office in rank, -— Bro. Palfrey, S. I. In rapid suc- 
cession members were admitted unt'l all the offices were filled, 
and those subsequently received were enriched with the simple 



ORATION. 9 

appellation of A. S. S. — simple indeed, but of how great 
import ! How superior to the petty distinctions of honor, of 
wealth, of rank ! I would rather be A. S. S. than K. of Eng- 
land, Cacique of Pedee, Sheik of Bornou, or Sultan of Stam- 
boul. 

A King may make a belted Knight, 

A Marquis, Duke and a' that ! 
But A. S. S. is aboon his might ; 

Guid faith,, he mauna fa' that ! 

We are now a recognized and independent Lodge, flourish- 
ing like so many green bay trees. 

From the 22d to the 29th heads, I had intended to prove 
the immense benefits of Secret Societies, both to individuals 
and the community at large. Two considerations, however, 
have withheld me. As it would be rank treason for any 
member to doubt their utility, it is entirely unnecessary ; and 
furthermore, I find myself utterly incapable of mentioning 
any. 

But from the 30th to the 34th, I will state a few of the ad- 
vantages of this particular Lodge. In the difficulty of this 
task, I am comforted by the reflection that I am entering upon 
as yet untrodden ground. But I hope to prove my position, 
whatever it is, so conclusively that, looking upon the amount 
of city and college temptation, aggregately arrayed against 
us, you will sigh with me — " O! for a Lodge in some vast 
wilderness ! " 

One benefit, I am sure, will be thoroughly appreciated by 
those of you who boast your descent from Eve. The curiosity 
which must have haunted your minds before admission, has 
been fully satisfied. Brethren, you are possessed of an im- 
portant secret. Let me congratulate you upon it. 

The second benefit cannot escape you if you look at this 
Oration, particularly the perhaps perfect annotations upon 
Xenophon. I assure you that I could not write so ten years 
since. 



10 ORATION. 

A third point that I would mention, is good fellowship. 
Brethren, one or two of you have perhaps tasted at some shop 
a glass of soda. You may remember how good it was, and 
possibly have learned that it was the amalgamation of many 
distinct and opposite elements, that caused its excellence. 
Let me, with all respect, compare that with our club. We 
are a Union of many clubs, all blended together in harmonious 
confusion. When I shut my eyes and imagine our Lodge, 
what meets my mental vision ? I see a mighty frigate, whose 
hull is a violin with the handle bent up ; cricket bats com- 
pose the masts, the ropes are syllogisms, and the sails sheets of 
music. The cannons are flutes, and the ammunition minims 
and demi-semi-quavers. The gallant craft is manned by Kings, 
Knights and Bishops. Her banner, proudly streaming on high, 
bears the raw head and bloody bones, and on her stern is 
painted " Harvard." 

But her voyage is ended. It has been speedy and prosper- 
ous, she has done her work, and now she sinks. It is like a 
comet which rapidly approaches the uniform, monotonous orbit 
of college life, shines fiercely for a time, and suddenly recedes 
from our view. An agave, which after slumbering in mere 
lifeless existence for as I have proved 2000 years, has at 
length unfolded its beauties, stood awhile, the admiration of 
all, but exhausted itself in its transient splendor, and perished 
at the height of its glory. A swine of supreme rotundity, 
mighty inertia, overwhelming obesity, whom the luckless Bo- 
Bo has consigned to a fiery consummation, — his life respecta- 
ble, his death renowned. A dor-bug who has invaded your 
room at dead of night, created much buzzing and whirring, 
extinguished your lamp, caused flowers of speech to spring 
from your unguarded lips, and finally doomed himself to un- 
timely destruction in the rays of the solar lamp. 

This night is our last. Brethren, I find it impossible to be 
pathetic upon the subject. Imagine ye all unutterable things. 



ORATION. 11 

Our Freshman year, too, is nearly closed. I will not look 
back upon it ; — let it pass. But what do we see in the future ? 
Transport yourself in imagination to the middle of the Sopho- 
more year. Fancy yourself crossing the street, the horror and 
admiration of many a gaping Freshman. Listen to the low 
murmurings of some annihilated Fresh upon the Delta ; — " By 
jingo ! what kickers them Sophomores be ! ,? Conceive the 
Faculty, awe-struck at the daring exploits of the glorious 
Soph. Reckon on the fingers of your mind the reprimands, 
deductions, parietals and privates in store for you. Consider 
yourself destined to an early suspension, a mature rustication, 
a final expulsion. Prepare to cut recitations, cut prayers, cut 
lectures, — aye, to cut even the President himself. Imagine 
yourself, with the dignity of a Professor, the costume of a 
Hottentot, the complexion of an Hawaian, but the impulses of 
a Sophomore, examining Freshmen in their Beck, their Schmitz, 
their Kreb. Anticipate deeds more mortal than those of Child, 
snubs more overwhelming than those of Torrey, ideas more 
subjective than those of Hartwell, more objective than those 
of Sophocles. Be read} r in fine to cut, t j drink, to s*n< ke, to 
swear, to haze, to deed, to spree, — in one word, to be a 
Sophomore. 



POEM. 



EY H. W. EAYNES, I. S. 



PSYCHE. 

Dear friends, while pondering on a subject meet 

Our second festive gathering to greet, 

Methought than this, none could delight you more : — 

The sweetest legend of the classic lore ; 

Of beauteous Psyche, loved in days of old 

By Love himself, the gentle tale is told. 

In a far land, 7 mid Nature's brightest reign, 

TThere crystal streamlets murmured through the plain, 

And beds of roses, myrtle groves among, 

To every breeze their mingled perfumes flung ; 

Where feathered songsters warbled forth their lays 

In green woods, sheltered from the sun's fierce rays, 

Sweet Psyche dwelt — -the king's fair daughter she — 

One ne'er could hope a lovelier maid to see. 

Men thronged from far to gaze on charms so bright, 

She seemed a goddess to their wondering sight. 

A temple straight they raise, an altar rear ; 

With garlands fresh the goddess they revere ; 

Their vows and prayers to her they daily pay, 



POEM, 

And spotless victims at her altar slay. 
To Yenus' temples now no more they crowd, 
But Psyche's praises chant in paeans loud. 
Meanwhile the Queen of Love with anger viewed 
Her suppliants gone, her rites no more renewed ; 
She sought her son, and found him where he sat, 
With Hebe toying at Olympus' gate. 
Her tale she told, and begged with tears of rage 
Her dear, dear son, her sufferings to assuage. 
And prayed that he with passion fierce would fire 
Her, whom to love no mortal dared aspire. — 
Her sisters both soon youthful lovers found, 
And Hymen's torch their ardent wishes crowned. 
But Psyche's heart, with love all brimming o'er, 
Found none on whom its tenderness to pour. 
She loathes such beauty, fated to remove 
All hopes of mutual happiness and love. 
While not with tenderness, with rev'rence they 
Behold her, Psyche pined herself away. 
Her sorrowing sire Apollo's temple sought, 
But no mild answer from the shrine he brought ; 
But this dread oracle : " Bind fast the maid 
To that bleak rock, a spotless victim paid 
To Venus' wrath ; there let the monster tear 
Her beauteous limbs, who makes his fearful lair 
In yon old forest dark, and chill, and drear, 
Whose depths the sun's bright rays can never cheer." 
Her mourning sire prepares with tears to obey 
The dread injunctions of the God of Day ; 
From his fond arms the weeping maid they tear, 
And to the rock the lovely victim bear. 
From all the country round they flock to gaze 
With tearful eyes ; and stand in mute amaze 
To see their goddess, so adored of late 
2 



14 POEM. 

By all, thus destined to so sad a fate. 

While standing thus, all mute with terror stare, 

A sighing zephyr gently raised the fair; 

Borne on its wings, she vanished from their eyes, 

And all the omen hail with glad surprise ; 

And deem that, raised to heaven, she still looks down 

With gracious eyes, unknowing how to frown. 

Upon her altars incense high they heap, 

And long her solemn festival they keep. 

Meanwhile sweet Psyche, softly lulled to rest, 

The zephyr bore so gently on his breast, 

That unawakened down the maid he laid 

Within a charming valley's cooling shade. 

How long in dreamy slumber thus she lay, 

'T were vain to tell ; but with the setting day 

She oped her soft blue eyes, and wondering saw 

A scene so fair, she deemed with holy awe 

She lay entranced in those far Western isles, 

Where blest Elysium on the pious smiles. 

A cooling fountain near her gently playing, 

Bright rills between the green trees softly straying, 

And birds of every rainbow hue low trilling 

Their carols sweet, her ravished senses thrilling, 

So wondrous strange, together all combined 

To fix the sweet delusion on her mind. 

She rose ; and wandering through the shady vale 

With careless feet, fanned by the perfumed gale, 

A stately palace rose before her sight, 

With turrets, domes, and marble columns bright. 

Towering aloft in beauty rose the pile, 

But no stern guard, no porter, all the while 

Appeared ; in dreamy silence hushed it lay, 

Wrapt in the glories of the setting day. 

A grassy park with many a noble tree 



POEM. 15 

Stretched wide around her, far as eye could see ; 
A beauteous garden smiling lay before her, 
Whose perfumed sweets came gently stealing o'er her. 
With timid steps she ventured to draw near 
This stately pile, yet trembling half with fear ; 
The gate she enters, and with cautious tread 
Walks through its courts, all silent as the dead. 
With wonder views its spacious halls bestrown 
With gold, and pearls, and every precious stone. 
While Eastern silks, and robes of Tyrian dye, 
In rich profusion heaped, around her lie. 
Sudden a voice comes stealing o'er her ear, 
So soft, so sweet, she scarcely seems to hear, 
Which tells her all is hers ; for her alone 
This pile was reared ; this luxury all her own. 
She starts in terror, turns in mute surprise, 
But no fair speaker meets her searching eyes. 
But the same voice still whispers in her ear, 
" Fear not, sweet Psyche, there is nought to fear.'* 
Then wandering on where'er her fancy led, 
A banquet rich, with every dainty spread, 
Salutes her wondering eyes ; but still the voice 
In gentle whispers says, u Come, make your choice, 
Fair Psyche, all *s for thee ; " the maid obeyed, 
And hands unseen the sweets before her laid ; 
While strains of softest music round her stealing, 
Now changed to notes of triumph loudly pealing, 
Rolled through the hall, in the far distance dying, 
Like summer breezes through the forest sighing. 
But darkness now around her 'gan to spread, 
When that strange voice the beauteous maiden led, 
Where a soft couch, bedecked with flowerets rare, 
To gentle slumber calls the blooming fair. 
Sweet Psyche then unbound her flowing vest, 



l§ POEM. 

Disrobed, and in her beauty sunk to rest ; 

Bright dreams flit round her, and a heavenly smile 

On her fair cheek seemed hovering all the while. 

But the same voice, again soft flowing round her, 

Fell on her ear; from slumber's chain unbound her; 

She woke : but in the darkness nought could spy ; 

But that sweet voice about her seemed to sigh, 

a Fair Psyche, Psyche, oh ! my own bright maid ! 

Can nought to tenderness your heart persuade ? " 

"What more the soft voice said 't were vain to tell^ 

For all may guess, while lovers know full well. 

So softly, gently, then her lover wooed her, 

So deep he sighed, so tenderly he sued her, 

The bright maid yielded, and with blushing charms 

Sunk gently in her youthful lovers arms ; 

His bride became ; her lover to his breast 

With soft caresses the fair maiden prest. 

When bright Aurora in the Eastern skies 

Rose blushing forth, fair Psyche oped her eyes ; 

With streaming tears she sees herself alone ; 

Her youthful husband from her side had flown. 

While thus she mourned, the soft voice in her ear, 

Whispered again, u My Psyche, Psyche, dear ; 

My own sweet bride, oh ! what would be the bliss ! 

To press on those bright lips a never ending kiss. 

And me so cruel could you deem, to leave 

My gentle bride in loneliness to grieve. 

Though I may ne'er before your eyes appear, 

Yet still as soon as dewy night draws near, 

In eager haste I '11 hie me to thy side, 

And in my arms enfold my lovely bride." 

A happy, joyous life, unknowing sorrow, 

From troubles free, and careless of the morrour, 

Young Psyche lived, and nought seemed wanting there, 



POEM. 17 

Save the dear presence of her sisters fair. 
Her eager longings to her lord she tells ; 
With a sweet kiss he all her cares dispels, 
And promises her sisters soon to bring, 
Borne on the balmy zephyr's gentle wing. 
And soon they came ; close to her heart she folds them, 
With tears of joy in long embrace she holds them ; 
Her tale she tells, and all her bliss imparts, 
And from their sorrows lightens both their hearts. 
How vain to think such happiness will last ! 
Fate alway stands prepared our hopes to blast ; 
Sad disappointment waits upon them all, 
Whene'er they brightest seem, they 're surest then to fall. 
Too soon alas ! this truth poor Psyche learned ; 
Her greatest joy to deepest sorrow turned. 
Her lot so bright, with every care dispelled, 
Her sisters soon with envious eyes beheld. 
Park doubts within her mind they first instil, 
And mould her gentle spirit to their will. 
A fearful tale, deep fraught with malice fell, 
With shuddering whispers in her ear they tell ; 
That a grim dragon holds her in his power, 
Who woos her to his arms but to devour ; * 
For this he ne'er appears before her sight, t 
But hides his hideous form in shades of night. 
So oft with feigned compassion they repeat 
The tale, and her so earnestly entreat 
To slay the monster, and escape his spell, 
Tho' long denying, they at length compel 
Poor Psyche to believe. One day, unseen, 
Within her hands a lamp and dagger keen 
They placed, and begged her much herself to free 
From the grim dragon's hateful tyranny. 
Long she refused ; but they so strongly pray, 
2* 



18 POEM. 

The weeping maiden promised to obey. 

At fall of night her lover sought her side, 

And as before embraced his blooming bride. 

When gentle slumber pressed his eyelids close, 

Trembling with fear she stealthily arose ; 

Her lamp she raised, and silent bending o'er 

The couch, beheld what ne'er was seen before ; — 

In blooming youth, there stretched before her eyes, 

The God of Love in all his beauty lies. 

While gazing thus with wonder mute she stands. 

The lamp bends downward from her careless hands ; 

One drop of oil falls on his shoulder bare ; 

He woke, and vanished into misty air; 

She strove to clasp him in her arms in vain, 

Her meeting arms no lover's form detain. 

In deep despair, and driven by Venus' wrath 

To phrensied madness, in a devious path 

Through the wide world she seeks her lover lost, 

On every mountain ridge, on every barren coast. 

Meanwhile the Queen of Love. in flowery chains 

Within her bower her weeping son detains, 

That time at length his wounded heart might heal, 

Since Love himself the pangs of love must feel. 

Escaped one day, while sad at heart, he strayed 

Benec\th a leafy forest's cooling shade, 

Wild rapture lights his tearful eyes to meet 

His beauteous Psyche slumbering at his feet ; — 

Tired by the way, she'd lain her down to rest, 

And slumbered sweetly on the earth's green breast. 

At this dear sight all his first love returns, 

And tenfold ardor in his bosom burns. 

Still unawakened there he leaves his love, 

And hies him to the throne of mighty Jove. 

Tells his sad tale, and prays that she may share 



POEM, 19 

His heavenly home, and dwell forever there. 
Moved by compassion then, the thundering God 
Lends gracious ears, and gives the awful nod. 
His mother too at length yields to his prayer, 
Remits her wrath and seals their union there. 
Admitted now within Olympus' hall, 
Sweet Psyche shines the brightest of them all. 

Such is the tale ; if it at all has pleased, 
My task is done — my heart from care is eased. 



ODE 



BY J. N. !£EAD, I. G. 



;( Hosin the Boic.' 



We Ve come here to ni^ht to be merrv, 
Then we'll throw all our cares to the wind ; 
Our studies, our prayers, and our tutors, 
We'll banish them all from the mind. 

Come ! this is no time to be troubled 
By nightmares of Latin and Greek ; 
For visions of Square Roots and Functions, 
To drive off the pleasures we seek. 

But now is the time to be jolly, 

To joke, and to laugh, and to sing, 

'Till the rafters resound with our laughter, 

And our shouts make the sturdy walls ring. 

In this little world, we shall meet with 

A plenty of sorrow and care, 

So let's laugh at what's odd and what's funny, 

When we find it, — wherever we are. 



ODE. 21 

Then first we will ha, ha, at Bradley, 

And at Allen we '11 then do the same ; 

Then we'll laugh at Ned Flint, that Odd Fellow 

With a belly as hard as his name. 

And Palfrey, sure he's an Odd Fellow, 
For a palfrey 's a horse as I ween ; 
But a horse trotting round with a dickey, 
So odd a thing never was seen. 



Here is Gorham, who fain would be Graham, 
With a thousand Scotch cousins or more ; 
And Dunbar has found that his Fathers 
Came over about the year — Four. 

This Bradford, who is not a " whaler," 
Tho' he comes from the land of Cape Cod ; 
And this one who poor (Poor) still is jolly — 
I am sure you will grant they are odd. 

The Halls too — the long and the short one, 
Though mouths answer finely for doors, 
And eyes do for windows — are odd still, — 
For who e'er saw halls without floors. 

We've a Buckeye, who calls himself Dexter. 
Though not very dext'rous — not he ; — 
But if people were called from their natures, 
Sinister suits him to a T. 



22 ODE, 

When you seek for the oddest Odd Fellows, 
Mead and Haynes will most surely be there ; 
And then when we ask where's the smallest, 
Sweet echo responds with, u Oh where," (Ware). 

This fellow tho' gray (Gray) is not aged, 
Hair blacker than his was ne'er seen ; 
And this man quite clearly demonstrates, 
That fields (Fields) are not quite always green. 



And now, since the world mat we live in, 

Is teeming with sorrow and care, 

Let us laugh at these odd things we've found here, 

At what's funny, — wherever we are. 

Is'nt H 's idea of the subject, 

And S 's rationale quite odd, 

His dickey, his boots and his " caput v 
That moves all the " Fresh p by its nod ? 

Let us laugh then at all that's " pecoolar " 
In Tutors we no longer fear ; 
For Sophomores — now we shall leave them, 
Yes, drop them — yet not drop a tear. 

Farewell to ye Tutors of Freshmen, 
To honors more lofty we soar ; 
We kindly, but gladly escape you, 
Hurrah ! we are Freshmen no more. 

FIXIS. 




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